


The Mary Shelley Can Wait

by JesterJuggalo



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/F, If I don't write this ship who will. Who fucking will.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesterJuggalo/pseuds/JesterJuggalo
Summary: Alt Title: Maybe I'd stop bugging you if you gave me what I want.Rose doesn't understand what it means to be a kismesis, and she sure as hell doesn't understand the feelings that Terezi is stoking. Terezi understands all of it fully, and intends to make short work of Lalonde's hesitations.





	The Mary Shelley Can Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's POV. Chapters will go back and forth between Rose and Terezi. I have no idea when I'll do the next chapter, but I wont just abandon it probably.

It would be remiss to say that quiet nights on the meteor were common, if only for the fact that nobody could ever solidly pin where the night would begin and the day would end anymore. Days blurred into weeks, and into months, and Rose figured that the years were probably passing by that quickly, too. Like hell did she keep track though; much like everyone else, the good Seer had resigned herself to a fate of unknowing, at least until they arrived at their destination, the logic of which was not lost on her in the slightest. However, if one were to have kept track of the passage of time, they would have found it to be just under two years that they had spent on the meteor, or, for the more xenologically inclined members, just under one solar sweep.  
However, if they had, Rose would have to berate them on their use of the fake word 'xenologicially', and even pointed it out that in any good text document such lexicon usage would warrant the most jarring of red squiggly lines.  
  
However, for now, Rose herself was cozy in her reading chair, fire lit beside her and a mug of alchemized tea in one hand while her dominant left held the book in a vice not dissimilar to a crab hoisting its kill high into the air, or at least it would be, should crabs ever prove to be predators in any capacity. Hell, maybe Alternian crabs were predators, it hadn't come up in conversation yet. A thought about interrogating Karkat on the ways of Alternian crustaceans sprung to mind, but was quickly pushed away once Rose found herself enraptured by an especially compelling piece of text in her book.  
The book in question was Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, and Rose now found herself reading of the horrid fate of William at the hands of the monster, its pain and wrath manifest in a grave act of homicide, and Rose found herself sourly siding with the Monster. After all, they both knew a thing or two about being trapped at the hands of their origins.  
  
It was just as well then that she was suddenly broken from her reverie, the sound of sharp clicking making its way down the hall outside. Oh. That sound. A hot sensation began to form its way to Rose's brow, her eyes closing as she let out a heavy sigh, forcibly trying to push back the headache that the sound seemed to cause these days in the most Pavlovian of ways. That sound belonged to one Terezi Pyrope, or more specifically her cane, and like the snarling of a beast that's broken its chains that heralds the coming of Ragnarök, that clicking always seemed to herald the annoyance of a troll merely microseconds behind.  
  
Could Rose say she liked Terezi? Not entirely, but could she purport to outright despise her either? She didn't think so. There were so many parts of Terezi that Rose could admire. For one, Terezi's razor sharp wit had been the cause for Rose's laughter more than once on their long meteor trip together, but it had also been the genesis of many of Rose's migraines. Perhaps Terezi went too far with her jokes, or perhaps it was the way that most of Terezi's 'jokes' in the recent months had seemed to have targeted Rose specifically, she didn't quite yet know. But Rose knew one thing for sure:  
Terezi Pyrope was the subject of many a confusing dream which left her with odd feelings of guilt.  
  
As the clicking got closer, Rose did her best to look flippant, her eyes trained on her reading though not taking any of it in. She managed to pick up the word 'companion' in the text which she thought a cruel irony to the thoughts she'd mediated between her logic and heart. Dave would've gotten a kick out of that one, had she shared her thoughts with him, but no. That wasn't her style. She wasn't the type to spill out her emotions like the leakage of a doomed ship, she was more the 'sit back in a chair and try to look overly casual type'. Wait. Was she actually concerned about her appearance right now?  
  
While caught up in her own thoughts, Rose hadn't realized a pair of ruby red eyes slowly peeking over the top of her book, proceeded only by a pair of sharp horns. Horns that Rose wanted to grab and use as leverage to get the upper hand when Terezi tried to prod at her. Then she could-- Woah there, partner. Rose was brought back to reality when a low, raspy voice split the silence of the room.  
  
"You're mumbling to yourself again, Lalonde. I feel like its becoming a terrible habit".  
Rose could hear the sneer in Terezi's voice, even if she couldn't quite see her mouth yet. With that one sentence, Rose could feel ire digging under her skin like worms and she could just close the book and drive it into Terezi's chest. It would be so easy! But no, no. Rose wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. So instead Rose returned to her book, determined not to show any sign that she'd noticed Terezi in the first place.  
"Go away, Terezi."  
"And miss all the fun of listening to you flick pages for hours on end like the borescholar you are? I think not!"  
"Go. Away."  
"Make me."  
  
Those two words at the very least forced Rose to meet Terezi's burned gaze. The intricacies of the burned flesh around the troll's eyes still fascinated her, captured her heart in ways that made it skip a beat. Rose's lips pursed as the gayness of that thought toiled through her. This was going to be a long night, wasn't it?  



End file.
